Part Four:

She smiled, accepting the warm mug, and inhaled the steam. "It wasn't like this, the first time," her eyes were closed but she may well have seen him, and she reached a hand out as she felt him settle his weight into the couch. "It was controlled and." she sipped the cocoa, "It was what I needed for a while, and when it was over, I left." Her eyes slid open as she felt his fingers slide up her inner wrist.

She sat the mug on the table and turned toward him slightly, capturing his eyes, "The bruises bother you, too," she paused, "They weren't this bad, after Rosslyn, the ones that were even there, that is. And those were very, very few," CJ finished in earnest.

His fingers trailed along the edges of the bruise, and his gaze fell to his ministrations. "You told me before," he trailed off, "but I need to see, to know.why?" he finished lamely, then looked back upward, eyes pleading, trying to understand.

"After all of the. shit hit the fan," she began after a moment of self-composure, "and the hearings took a wrong turn, I kept going back over it all, wondering what I'd done to cause."

"Nothing! This is not your fault, you can hardly control disease. You didn't give Bartlet MS or tell him to hide, and if you lied at all willingly you did it either unknowingly or at the service of the President," Toby defended, turning her chin to face him.

She laughed somewhat wryly, "Road to hell is paved with good intentions." The room was silent, the pause not altogether uncomfortable, "I was upset, you know, the more I thought about it, and you have known me forever. I did what I always do," CJ looked at him expectantly.

"You didn't yell at me, so you either tried to kill yourself at the gym or." he frowned, thinking, "went on a cleaning binge?"

She chuckled, "God, I'm so predictable! I cleaned, it was raining so I decided not to brave the trip to the gym. I found his business card in the coat," she paused, swallowing, "the one from Rosslyn. It was in a box, in the closet. I just. I guess I stared at it for so long and remembered so vividly, that I believed I needed that again. And I knew he would. I think I'd had a little more to drink than I should have. Things got a little out of hand and he got angry when I decided to leave, he wanted me to stay. I was still a little upset and he was angry, we ended up, you know, fucking again, and he got a little too. I tried to." CJ looked down, "I just needed to feel again, Toby, and when I could, all it did was hurt. I wanted to feel something besides disappointment and anger. I chose the wrong path," she sighed, her lips quirking up at the proverbial turn in the conversation, and she watched his mouth twitch as he fought not to do the same. And CJ looked down again, slipping her hand from his as she clasped them together, cocoa cold and forgotten. "And I've disappointed you, and Abbey thinks, oh God knows what Abbey thinks. She probably thinks I've been tortured and raped by a madman, which means the President," her head fell to her hands only to snap upward, almost grateful for the phone's ringing. Without turning from him, CJ reached backward and grasped the phone, not even bothering to say hello. After a moment, she placed it back in the cradle, shaking her head. "Phone lines are crossed again, I can hear the other people. I need to call the supervisor and tell him to send someone to rewire it, in the morning. Install new phones, or something."

"It can wait," he interrupted, "For one, Abbey may be assuming things but she won't tell her husband, she's good at keeping confidences and she's got that doctor-patient-confidentiality going for her. She cares - you're her friend, she's probably worrying, but she'd understand. And furthermore, I'm not. okay, perhaps I'm a little disappointed, but not for the reasons you think," Toby slipped his hands around both of hers, smiling at her to ease her uncertainty. "Look at me, CJ. I'm not disappointed with you for needing to feel alive, or for drinking too much wine or beer, or even for going to him in the beginning or the second time. I'm not disappointed because you didn't leave or couldn't get away."

"I wanted to, then," she whispered, "Not at first, but after. I did want to leave, my arm hurt and my head hurt and I felt so," CJ paused, murmuring still, "dirty, disgusting, but he wouldn't let go." Her words were quiet, sure, and, Toby wondered, slightly tearful.

"He may not have raped you, Claudia Jean, but he definitely tortured you," he held up her wrist so they both could see the marks, "You didn't deserve any of this, Rosslyn or Manchester or the subpoenas. Or these bruises. You may've been willing when you got there."

"But I wasn't when I left," she finished. "It was a mistake, a very. bad mistake."

"I know. Not so much yours as his," Toby added in, "because if I ever meet this guy, and it won't just be me in on this, he'll be in need of a medic. Abbey's not pleased, and Bartlet and the rest of the men." he watched her tiny smile turn into a grin, "You think you made a mistake?" his voice was incredulous as he let her mind go to the possibilities.

After a moment, she shook herself from her ponderings, "But it doesn't feel very different, from that, especially after the roses," CJ visibly shuddered, "They were red, Toby. Beautiful red roses, any normal woman would love," and she paused again, "but they took me back there, to Rosslyn," she explained, squeezing one of his hands, "Toby if it wasn't for."

"I was disappointed, CJ, because," he looked down, "never mind."

"Toby," she prodded cautiously, "please."

"Why didn't you come to me, CJ?" he asked, sounding very much like a hurt little boy. His voice was quiet, pleading, anguished. "I wouldn't have hurt you, CJ. Why not me?"

"Oh, Toby," she breathed, his words unexpected, her eyes welling with tears. "Oh, God, I."

"Now's not the time." he began, standing, "I apologize CJ, I shouldn't."

"No!" She stood quickly, swaying with the force of her movement, her hands tightening to grip his almost painfully. "Don't go, I," she paused, sitting heavily and pulling him with her, her knees falling to touch his. "I couldn't, I needed to keep you separate from this, to keep you. clean. Because I need you and I couldn't ask you to do something like that, without feeling, something so meaningless. Because I need you," she squeezed his hand lightly with each new reason, almost counting them off, "Because I've known you for a long time, Toby, a very long time. And you're my best friend, and I love you for all that you are to me, all that you could. all that you will be," she smiled, her voice determined, watching his already glassy eyes as they seemed to widen with her words, "And I needed you to be separate, to be here, even if you didn't."

"I do," he interrupted, "but I do." His words were quietly eager, reassuring.

"I know," she whispered, eyes shining, "Thank you for understanding, and. I just had to make sure you knew, I probably shouldn't have said all that I did," her voice dropped to a lower whisper, "I just had to make you understand why I didn't come to you then, because you wouldn't have known then. You have to know," she repeated, adamant, obviously worried that he hadn't completely grasped all that she'd said, all that he'd replied in turn. "You had to know, first."

They sat together, hands clasped, knees touching, foreheads almost together, both near tears as they realized just what confessions they'd made.

"I guess I should."

"Stay! Stay," CJ said, her eyes widening this time, "There's so much I need to explain, that I haven't yet."

"You've said it all, CJ Cregg, all that's necessary. And they say we have problems with communication, or at least Sam does," he teased, finally lightening the tone. Then he smiled, "You're my best friend, too."

She grinned back, "Shut up, Toby." And for the first time in quite a while, she felt hopelessly pleased, absolved, and safe.

And yet, so intent were they in their conversation and revelations, they didn't notice the eyes that watched them, haunted them, from the window, or the tapping noises he'd made to try to break them up.

And they didn't see him when he grinned quite unexpectedly, his eyes narrowing as he heard her mention her phone. "So she needs a new telephone line," Neil mused, turning from the window and moving down the fire escape, slowly. "I've got friends in low places," he crooned, then laughed. "Ah, Claudia. I'll install the perfect phone for you, one that'll allow me to join in the conversation," he chuckled, then frowned as he neared the bottom floor, his pace quickening as he hit the street. "You'll never have her, Mr. Communications Director, because she's about to be swept off of her feet." Neil sighed to himself, "Claudia, Claudia, Claudia," shaking his head, "you shouldn't have run away."